


Chains of Lineage

by infiniteworld8



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anger, Bonding, Developing Relationship, Gen, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteworld8/pseuds/infiniteworld8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After enduring brutal torture at the hands of the dwarves while captive in Farthen Dur, Nasuada must convince Murtagh to keep what happened to him a secret from Eragon. Set during the first book. SPOILER: Here's the reason why Murtagh actually killed the dwarf king later in the series even though he wasn't ordered to by Galbatorix. Two/shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starlight.Moon.Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Starlight.Moon.Princess).



Nasuada slowly walked down the rough passage way. As she passed people nodded at her, human and dwarf alike. Several people even curtsied to her or murmured polite invites to sup with them. She smiled and replied back to those who asked with gentle refusals. But her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about the task that was laid in front of her.

First to put a stop to the torture of the Rider’s friend Murtagh and then to persuade Murtagh to keep his silence about what had happened. It was a shrewd move on her father’s part to send her instead of coming himself. This way he enforced his power but by using her he avoided showing favouritism to the rider’s companion which would have surely turned the Varden against him if they knew he was taking the side of the son of Morzan.

She didn’t know how her father expected her to be able to persuade the Dragon rider’s companion to not disclose the full nature of his imprisonment to but she was determined to try her best. She knew of what part Morzan had played in her mother’s death and she couldn’t help but hate his son for it. When she had overheard the name of the person accompanying the Dragon Rider she had paid it little attention. But the whispers that he was Morzan’s son had reached her ears and confirmation by her father had made her loathe the man before she had even set eyes on him.

She couldn’t help but think that any progeny of Morzan was tainted in some way. Nasuada forced her revulsion down and focused on clearing her face. The task she was going to complete was for the good of the Varden, and the whole of Farthen Dur. Her actions in the next few minutes might even decide the way things would happen in the empire for years to come. If they lost the support of the dragon rider Eragon in the upcoming battle they were sure to lose. And if he knew what had happened to his friend he would surely not agree to fight with them.

She straightened her shoulders as she neared her destination. The doors ahead were thick oak and reinforced by thick iron bands. The wood, she knew was impregnated with numerous spells to prevent escape.  But even with all the precautions to prevent escape 6 people still guarded the door with thick pikes and swords hanging at their sides.

“Lady Nasuada.”  Echoed through the chambers as several gruff voices spoke

Nasuada inclined her head to the men and dwarves.  She forced herself to smile even though , it was the last thing she wanted to do.  She noticed the dwarves didn’t smile back and remained stony-faced.

“I have come to see the prisoner.”

The men rustled slightly, but nobody moved or spoke. There was more shifting and a few of the guards darted glances at each other, before one spoke. He was younger than the rest, possible no more than two or three years older than her. His face was clean shaven and nervous. “Ma’am, I mean Lady Nasuada. The –the prisoner is not in a state to receive you right now.”

Nasuada frowned feigning surprise at the guard’s words. It was true; she hadn’t announced she was coming. Her father had suggested as much so she would at least have the element of surprise. But there was no reason for him to not be available, unless the rumors of what was going on in the chamber were true.  “And why not.”

“Um—“ The young-face d guard fell silent and glanced around at his companions as if hoping somebody would spare him from having to answer. Nobody spoke. Nasuada frowned. “I am Ajihad’s daughter, I have the proper authority to see the prisoners, and I can verify it.” She pulled a sheet of parchment from her gown and held it out to one of the guards. The man she passed it to turned slightly red and stared at the paper for a moment, she noticed he was holding it upside down. After a, moment he passed it to another guard. The dwarf scanned the paper briefly before folding it up and passing it back.

“Lady Nasuada, you have the authority to see him but that isn’t the issue here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lady, I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re nothing more than a youngling and a lady too. There are some things I don’t like to mention you being such.” The dwarf paused and tugged his beard for a moment. Nasuada was growing more impatient, before she could speak the dwarf continued. “But the boy knows a lot more than he telling, there’s a reason he won’t be examined and this is war ma’am. That information means lives ours or there’s.”

Nasuada drew in a sharp breath, and let her eyebrows arch like she had just realized the guards reasons for trying to keep her from seeing Murtagh. “You mean you’re torturing him?”

“Obtaining information Lady Nasuada.” One of the human guards said.

Nasuada drew herself up to her full height. She had hoped the informer had been exaggerating when he had stated the dwarves had started torture, but she knew it was the truth. The memory of Morzan’s actions was branded in the minds of many of the Varden, dwarf and human alike. And the people not old enough to have known Morzan’s   exploits firsthand, had the information and hatred passed down from their elders. She herself couldn’t forget how Moran’s actions had affected her own life. But she couldn’t allow the torture of somebody who could very well be innocent just because of what their father had done.

“I demand you open this door and allow me to meet with the prisoner.”

“Lady Nasuada, he’s in custody of King Hrothgar, we—“A human guard began.

Nasuada cut him off. “And King Hrothgar’s custody involves torture?”

The dwarven guards shifted and eyed her unkindly. One spoke. “It involves ensuring the people under his care are safe knurlan and human, not a devil’s spawn.” The dwarf spat and continued. “While in our custody we have leave to do as we see necessary.”

Nasuada inwardly was seething but she forced herself to remain calm. “I was under the impression that custody of the prisoner was to be transferred back to the Varden.”

“That agreement was under one condition.” The dwarf said contemptuously, not troubling himself to disguise his dislike of her. “He’s to agree to not tell the dragon rider any of what’s happened during his interrogation. Hrothgar had plans on what to do after, but if he’s going to be kept alive he has to be silent and he hasn’t agreed to that…but he will with a little more persuasion.”

Nasuada forced herself not to think about what was happening behind the door. And she realized that it must have been enchanted with silencing charms because she couldn’t hear one sound from what she knew must be happening inside the chamber.  “Open, the door now.”

The guards didn’t move, but the young one shifted uncertainly before staring at the ground. The first dwarf spoke again. “Why don’t you just run along, Lady and leave this to us. We’ve got everything under control.”

“I will not be spoken to like a child. I may be young, but apparently I have more bravery than all of you.” She glared at all of them before continuing. “You stand here with swords, six men strong in front of enchanted doors, while inside who knows how many are intent on wresting _information_ from what for all we know is an innocent person.”

“He’s Morzan’s son. A shade would be more innocent then him” A guard muttered half-way under his breath while staring defiantly at her.

“ I will not tolerate any more of this. I was charged to talk with the prisoner ad you are obstructing my way. If I report your insolence, I can have all three of you—“ she swept her eyes across all three dwarves. “Punished with at least 10 lashes, Hrothgar, wishes to keep somewhat good relations with my father does he not and he would not take kindly to your outright disrespect would he?”

Without waiting for the now sullen dwarves to reply she rested her eyes on the humans in the group. “And you three…would be hanged.”

The youngest one noticeably paled and swallowed sharply. “Uh- lady Nasuada, I-I_”

“Quiet you yellow-belied bootlicker.” A guard growled out silencing the younger one. The man who had spoken glared at Nasuada and said with a false attempt at humility. His lips parted in a poor imitation if a subservient grin “As you wish Miss Nasuada.” He gestured for the others to assist him in opening the doors and silence they slid the iron bars out and unlocked the enormous doors. As they swung open the human guard nearest her gave a sarcastic bow gesturing her in.

Nasuada made a note to tell Jormundur about the guards’ behaviour for reprimand and walked forward. She was greeted by the  awful stench of sweat , human waste, and …blood. There was a fireplace in the room and several long metal rods were heating in it.

Two people a human and a dwarf were clustered around a person chained to the ceiling by his wrists. He was naked to the waist and his pants were soaked with a dark liquid that could only be blood. A puddle of it was pooling underneath him.  Nasuada had to stop herself from clamping a hand to her mouth in horror.

The dwarf standing near the man chained to the ceiling asked something. It was too low to hear, but the answer must have been unsatisfactory because the dwarf raised what she now noticed was a hot iron and pressed it into his flesh. The man strained against his bonds and made no sound for about a half-a second and then he screamed.  His voice was tense and hoarse, as if the yell had only been one of many. The man fell slack against his bonds panting heavily.

“Finally got you to say something. Now—“

Nasuada rushed forward. “Stop!” The human and the dwarf interrogator turned in surprise. They had been so engrossed in their task they had failed to notice her intrusion. She moved closer using their surprise as an opportunity to pull the hot iron from the dwarves grip.

The dwarf turned around in surprise as did the human. Nasuada ignored their obvious shock and shouted in a commanding voice, “I charge you all to cease at once. “

“You’re interfering with an interrogation.” The man said.

“This interrogation is illegal; there is no sanction for this treatment.”

“Hrothgar gave his blessing for us to ask some questions.” The dwarf glared at her.

“And did he know what this would entail or did you take liberties with asking your _questions?”_

“Ma'am you’re interfering with an official interrogation.  This is none of your business and you haven’t the authority to—“ Nasuada silenced the dwarf’s condescending speech by forcing the parchment she had shown the guards earlier into his hands. The dwarf read the script quickly and the straightened up. He was obviously more affected by the words than the half-illiterate guards lingering outside the door were. Nasuada could see by his face that he glimpsed the subtle implications weaved into the letter and the veiled threats. 

The dwarf refolded the letter and made a half-bow in her direction. “Very well, the prisoner is in your custody for now, but I must discuss this matter with my king.”

“Do as you see fit.” Nasuada coldly said, she gestured to the young-guard who was lingering near the edge of the door furtively watching the confrontation. “You, what is your name?”

The guard started visibly at being addressed directly but recovered enough to say. “Faris, Ma’am.”

“Faris, do you know where the healers reside”

The young man hesitated and then gave a sharp nod.

“Good fetch them at once.”

“Just healers or healers- Mages ma’am.”

Nasuada hesitated momentarily. She disliked dealing with magic users, they were almost always arrogant and their innate power made them dangerous. But Murtagh’s injuries were such that if he didn’t get healed and quickly his life was in danger. Not to mention the already precarious footing they were on with trying to gain the allegiance of the first dragon rider in several decades.

“Bring the healer-mages and tell them to be quick.”

Faris gave a nod and quickly set off.

Nasuada glanced toward the guards lingering near the door. “Help me get him down.” Reluctantly two men stepped forward and quickly removed the chains holding Murtagh up. As he was moved he gave a low moan and then lapsed into unconsciousness. The guards lowered his body to the ground roughly and then withdrew. Nasuada ignored the other guards mutters and knelt next to Murtagh.  The hem of her dark blue dress dripped in the blood lying pooled around his body, but she ignored the liquid as she stared at the man lying unconscious in front of her. He was young perhaps only a few years older than her and his body was lithe and strong. His expression strained and he looked to be in a great deal of pain. But what struck Nasuada most was his face, she knew the face from images conjured up during stories. She knew the nose, the cheekbones, and the eyes, from fairths she had seen.  It was almost identical and yet not.

“ _Morzan_ ” She whispered the name under her breath to her it was like a curse. She couldn’t forget what the beast of a man had done to her mother or the other atrocities he had committed.  Nasuada didn’t move and stared Murtagh’s inert form for seconds longer.

She was pulled from here reverie when a low groan sounded and Murtagh stirred. He moaned again and she saw him try to move and flinch in pain. His hair was matted to his forehead with dried blood. His face was lined with pain, even in unconsciousness.

“Help me move him.” Nasuada ordered the guards lingering near the door. She stood aside as the men hoisted Murtagh’s insensate form onto the rough cot in the corner of the room.  As the guards lifted his limp body, his back was clearly visible.  Once Murtagh was laid down, Nasuada gesture for the guards to leave them and waited alone for the healers to arrive.

She stood over Murtagh staring at him with a mass of emotions. She couldn’t help disliking him, because of his heritage. But as he rolled over and groaned Nasuada felt a twinge of pity. The emotion was only intensified as she noticed a thick, pale, ropy scar marring his body from hip to shoulder.

“Gokakura,” Nasuada muttered under her breath, she followed the exclamation by a soft litany of curses as she imagined the pain he must have endured from such a wound. It was old, she could tell by the shape and quality. And judging by how it seemed to have grown and stretched he must have obtained it while very young. She shook her head and whispered. “Who would do such a thing to a child?”

“His own father.”

Nasuada visibly started at the voice and whirled around, her hand plunging into her dress for the dagger she always carried.

A young woman with curly brown hair and a mischievous face met her gaze.  “I would put that away if I were you Nasuada, Ajihad’s Daughter.” Nasuada merely stared at the woman in shock.  The woman added airily. “Solembum might take it as a threat, and you don’t want to see him when he’s threatened. He leaves behind nasty hairballs.”

The woman’s’ familiar wit brought Nasuada out of her state of shock. “Angela, how did you get here?” she asked as she stowed the dagger back in her robes.

“I walked.” The witch replied earnestly.

Nasuada frowned as she remembered the other woman’s fondness for answering questions literally.   Angel ignored Nasuada’s expression and leaned past her to stare at Murtagh. “Ah, there he is.”

“Wh-what.” Nasuada started to stammer and then stopped herself. She hated how the witch without saying a word had the seeming ability to turn anybody that tried to make sense of her eccentric rambling incoherent.  Nasuada took a moment to collect herself and tried again. “What are you doing here?”

The witch turned away from where she was leaning close examining the cuts across Murtagh’s chest and said. “In the interest of saving us both some time , I’ll assume you’re wondering  _why_ I’m here instead of one of those fake-mages, since it’s of obvious _what_ I’m doing here is examining this boy’s wounds.”  Angela turned away from Murtagh and said. “You really should send people who aren’t so easily intimidated, when you’re trying to deliver a message.”

“What do you mean?”

“The boy, Faris, buckled with only the threat of turning him into a toad, ahem, frog.”

Nasuada would have glared at the witch except Angela had already turned away from her and Solembum was staring at her instead. 

“I summoned healers, not—“

Angela turned around, her expression was calm, but her eyes were flashing as she completed the sentence. “Not me.” The witch gave a contemptuous snort. “You wished to have the Du Vrangar Gata attend to him? You would be better off carting him out for carrion.”

Angela leaned down and to Nasuada’s surprise spoke with Solembum. “Find Liomel and get bandages and herbs, you know which ones.”

The cat gave a lazy flick of his tale and stretched before leaping off the side of Murtagh’s cot where he had curled and leaving through the half-open doors.

Angela took off the shawl she wore and rolled up the sleeves of her dress.  Before she grabbed a small bag from the floor and as Nasuada watched began to remove an impossible amount of items from within.

First was a small folding table, that Nasuada couldn’t began to fathom how it had fit inside a container barely large enough to hold half a cat. Next were several bottles and jars of herbs and finally a large iron cauldron. Nasuada dragged her gaze away from Angela pouring the bottle into the container and asked. “Why do you say such things about the Du Vrangr Gata, they have helped us numerous times over the years?”

Angela turned to Nasuada and smiled slightly, before cocking her head to the side and speaking as scolding a child. “Nasuada surely you aren’t blind. Do you mean to tell me you trust the drajl twins and their minions that much.”

“N-no I mean, I—“

“You mean that your father trust them and as his daughter you stand by his decision, but I can see you yourself don’t approve of the power they have been given or there misuse of it.”

Nasuada was silent, she kept her face impassive. But Angela merely snorted and shook her head. “Keep your silence.” She turned around and started unrolling a package of herbs and said in a singsong voice. “Words may be false, but by and by faces never lie.”

Solembum arrived at that moment sparing Nasuada from figuring out a reply to Angela. The cat had a thick parcel in his mouth. He dropped it in front of Angela’s feet and then jumped lightly onto the small table in the middle of the dungeon and began cleaning himself.

Angela turned around and opened the package; she sniffed and lifted an eye at the cat. “I said herbs and _bandages,_ not scraps of fabric.”

Solembum paused his licking his paws and purred lazily.

“I don’t care whether you couldn’t carry them all, you don’t have to walk around like that all the time you do have hands you know.”

Solembum straightened up and flicked his eyes toward the door and then at Nasuada and finally extended his paws flicking his claws out.

“Keep your threats to yourself, and who’s to know about you, it’s not like you have to change in the middle of the hall.”

Solembum merely mewed and then turned his back to the witch and went back to cleaning himself. Angela snorted and went back to the fire, dropping herbs into her cauldron. Nasuada had watched the whole exchange with interest. Not for the first time she wondered was Solembum a were cat, she had heard the tales but she wondered whether they were true. A question slipped out. “You talk to him like he understands you  why ….”

Angela turned around, her eyes piercing. “And why shouldn’t I? Everything speaks you just have to listen, a skill sadly few are able of doing well or for long.” Nasuada looked away from the witch’s gaze and Angela turned back to her work. She spoke as she worked. “But enough frippery, lets’ discuss, what’s to happen to this pour soul.”

Nasuada couldn’t help saying. “He’s hardly a poor soul, not after what—“

“After what? What has he done to you personally?” Angela quirked and eyebrow obviously wanting an answer.

Nasuada felt like a child again under the witch’s glare. “Me, nothing, but he has the potential to be dangerous and his father—“

“He has no control over who his family is anymore than you do. Would you condemn everybody because of their ancestors and if so who are you to judge? What gives you the right?”

Nasuada was at lost to answer. She had no answer for the witch and instead remained in silence watching as the witch bathed Murtagh’s back with brew from her cauldron and then set about bandaging it with fabric that Solembum had brought, as she sang a soft melody. Angela finally straightened up and wiped her hands on her apron wiping away the salve that was clinging to her fingers. “There that’s all I can do for him, at the moment. “

Nasuada nodded. “Will he live?”

“That’s impossible for me to know with any certainty, some of those wounds had poison which had to be drawn out and others were deep, he may live.”” Angela gently trailed a hand across, cheek and as Murtagh murmured feverishly in his sleep. The witch’s normally cheerful face grew grave as she watched the sleeping young man and perhaps it was Nasuada’s imagination but she was almost sure she heard the witch half-whisper “It might be better for him if he did not.”

Nasuada was silent as she watched Murtagh’s unconscious form, and Angela packed up her belongings. The witch was about to leave, but before she could Solembum leaned up against Nasuada skirts attracting her attention. The cat stared into her eyes intensely and then she heard. _Whatever your feelings about his father, you best hope he lives there’s no revenge to be gotten in his death that won’t result in the deaths of many, especially as he’s close to that erratic rider Eragon. Plus, I think you and the boy have more in common than you think._

Then Solembum mewed and walked over to Angela who had been watching the entire scene.

Nasuada could only stare in shock at the witch. Angela cocked her head knowingly, “I’ll guess that you’ll have found that Solembum is more than your normal cat.”

“W-what did he mean—“

“Stop, His words were for you and you alone.”

Nasuada fell silent, and watched the cat trail after the witch before he had left; he turned back to her catching her eye again. _You’d do best to move the boy from this room, it’s got quite a draft, it wouldn’t do for him to die now, you’re not the only one with an important  destiny to fulfill you know._

Then the were-cat and the witch were gone and Nasuada was left staring in confusion after them both.

After a moment she shook herself and turned called out to the guards still lingering near the door. “Prepare a cell in one of the upper level s for the prisoner.”

“At once ma’am. “ A guard said in a mocking voice while, bowing low.

Nasuada noted the man’s tone but chose to ignore his words right now; she had more important things to worry about.


	2. Chapter 2

He awoke with a start, attempting to turn over from where he had been placed on his stomach, but aborted the movement as a streak of pain tore through his body. His memory came back in a rush. _The burning irons, the metal tipped whips, blows punctuated by questions._  Ignoring the pain coursing through him he rolled to his side and then carefully levered himself up. His grunt of pain turned to and cry of surprise as he saw a dark-skinned woman, about his age in a chair near him. His head was swirling with dizziness and nausea and he stared at her blankly for a minute.

“Lay back, you’re still healing.” Her voice was quiet and sombre but had a rich quality and a tone that indicated she expected to be obeyed.

He struggled to hold himself up with his arms but his will slackened as a surge of pain washed through his body making him feel faint.   His stomach churned and a bitter taste coated his tongue.  He barely had time to lean forward towards a bucket near the side of the bed  before he heaved.  He attempted to straighten up seconds later after the sickness receded, but his arms trembled violently with the effort  and before he could pitch forward a quick arm was guiding him back down and on to his side thereby sparing his stripped back.

“Thank you.” He murmured. The woman didn’t speak; Murtagh noted how she withdrew her hands away from him.

He glanced around where he was being held and was surprised to find himself in a relatively nice chamber if what was so obviously a jail cell could be called nice. There was a fireplace in one corner, the cot he was lying on had a thick blanket and a small wooden table with two chairs was I the corner.

He glanced back at the woman sitting across from him and surveyed her features. She seemed familiar but he was sure they had never met. Before he could get the chance to consider the quandary, she spoke.

“My name is Nasuada and you are Murtagh Morzan’s son.”

Murtagh’s eyes grew cautious at her tone and he shifted uneasily under her gaze. “Yes, I am.” He forced the words out roughly, past his sore throat.

She was silent for a moment, and in that time Murtagh’s initial anger grew. Silently he cursed Eragon, he had told the dragon rider that this was how he would be treated if he came to the Varden. He should have left, never mind that the other boy would likely have died at the hands of the Kull, in his foolish attempt to rescue the elf. It wasn’t his concern; other people had never been his concern. Not since Tornac. Everybody that had ever known him had looked at him with horror and disdain after they found out who his father was. Even his supposed friend Eragon, he couldn’t forget the look on the other boy’s face when he had told him the truth or the way he had let his hand slip unconsciously to is sword.

“What is this? Decided to take a break from torturing me and they’ve had you come to see if I’m ready to tell the secret plot I was sent here by the King to enact?” Murtagh sat up again even though it was costing all his strength. “Or are you supposed to be the gentle Kind woman who will ensure the hardened criminal like me to break with your sympathies?”

“Neither, it wasn’t my decision to have you tortured or sanctioned by my father, and I’ve come for an entirely different matter, a task which I would rather have done almost anything than do.” Nasuada couldn’t help letting the anger flash in her eyes.

Murtagh’s curiosity was piqued but rather than question her last statement he seized on the first one a vague suspicion forming in his mind. “Is your father Ajihad?”

“Yes, he is. Ajihad, leader of the Varden and it is by his word and his word only that I came to talk to you.”

“I have nothing to speak about. As I have told your torturers, I neither work for the empire nor the king and I will not submit to letting my mind be examined. You may kill me or do whatever you may, but I will die with the last sanctuary I have left intact.”

Against her will Nasuada was impressed but she was careful not to show it. “Those men, were not sanctioned by my father, indeed when he found out what was being done, he sent me to stop it.”

“Then on whose orders were—“

“The affairs of the Varden are not your business.” Nasuada said sharply. “However, my father and the dwarf king have an alliance but mutual understanding is not always there.”

Murtagh shifted uncomfortably straining the healing wounds on his back. His anger was fading; he found it hard for some strange reason to be mad at the woman for long. Even though he shouldn’t have cared and indeed in the past wouldn’t have after how the rider had treated him he asked. “How is Eragon, is he in a likewise situation because of his association with me?”

A strange look crossed Nasuada face and then disturbed at his words for a few seconds before her face cleared. “He is fine and in good health.”

“I presume he has no idea what’s been happening over the past few hours then huh?” Murtagh gave a wry smile and continued none too nicely. “Still as clueless as ever.”

 Nasuada ignored his tone and spoke. “No, and that’s what we need to talk about, he must not find out what has happened”

“Don’t want him to know that the people who he would fight for aren’t exactly innocent?” Murtagh shifted and grimaced before continuing raggedly. “Forget it if he bothers to actually come here, I’m going to put a little knowledge in his head about the real world.” Murtagh twisted his back slightly so the bandages already beginning to dampen with blood were visible. “Show him that heroics and nobility only result in this.”

“If you do this the Varden risks losing his support. In fact his sympathies could tip towards the wrong way, even from seeing him from afar I can see he is impressionable.”

Murtagh snorted causing him to press a hand to his ribs which Angela hadn’t healed fully. “Impressionable? Eragon’s not impressionable so much as he’s a gullible idiot. Everything’s black and white to him, good and evil and most of the time there’s a lot that—“

“—doesn’t fit in either category” Nasuada finished and ignoring Murtagh’s startled look continued. “Eragon is the first dragon rider in years; his very existence gives hope to a cause which many people have given up on resigning themselves to lives of oppression and fear. Would you truly sacrifice millions of people’s lives’ and happiness  because of a personal grudge?”

Murtagh’s face contorted and he forced himself up from where he was lying. He twisted his back towards her even though the pain was evident in his movements, and allowed her to see the marks and deep cuts that marred his skin. “Does this look like a grudge to you? They tortured me for hours before you came, they would have killed me eventually. And you stand here talking to me about our cause and fear and oppression? I have done nothing my entire life but remain in constant fear, and defend myself against countless attacks; I can’t even sleep unless my sword is nearby. “Murtagh had started out yelling and was gasping as he finished roughly. “So do not lecture me on grudges unless you are also willing to lecture the other people who hate me because of something I have no control over. My father was a monster and a murder and I am his son, but I remove to fall upon my sword in repentance for his deeds because the majority of people think I am like him!”

Nasuada swallowed at his words and glanced away. His words reminded her of her reasons for hating him and then she was forced t think of how it must have felt to have grown up scorned openly by those who could get away with it and secretly by those who didn’t dare make their avarice evident.  Her thoughts were interrupted as Murtagh gave strangled gasp of pain and Nasuada looked up to find all the colour drained from his face and his hands tightly fisted in is blankets as he fought against the pain and exhaustion that was coursing through him, she reached out towards him, intending to push him back and he jerked away from her touch like a wild animal. His teeth were bared in pain and anger, he hissed out between forced breaths.  “Leave me alone, don’t pretend you care.”

Nasuada let her hands fall to her sides and instead watched as Murtagh carefully manoeuvred himself into a more comfortable position.  She swallowed back the words she wanted to say and instead said. “You may not care about what affect your words will have on the future of the Varden, but you should know that your course of actions will be the catalyst for several events if you proceed with what you’re planning.”

Murtagh scowled at her but didn’t speak. Nasuada wondered whether she should even tell the man, what she knew but then decided that if it was the only thing that could possibly divert Murtagh from his planned course of action than she had to try it. “Many people, of whom my father and I are not apart, believe that if the new dragon rider is not loyal to our cause then he is loyal to none.”

Murtagh laughed. “As he should be, the power a rider has should not be subjected to the whims of capricious leaders or groups of people. At least someone should be allowed to choose their own destiny.”

“And in that lies the problem. Galbatorix had power, power enough to choose his own destiny and as such choose everybody else too; many would not let the same rider fall into such a way…or even worse become a tool for Galbatorix, even if it meant the source of contention was destroyed. “  
Nasuada watched as Murtagh’s face grew closed as he processed her words. “Murtagh, you have to understand that if Eragon was to become disillusioned there are many, many people, humans, dwarves, even elves who would do anything to avoid having the possibility of another tyrant.” She paused and continued. “What you’re being asked to do will affect everybody….Most of all Eragon.”

Murtagh was silent for several minutes and then he looked up at Nasuada. “I wouldn’t want something to befall him because of me.” He didn’t miss the expression that crossed the woman’s face at his words.  “What I said disturbs you?”

“You would care if something were to happen to Eragon?”

“Yes, we travelled together for months. I could have easily left him and Sapphira many times, and he would have died. But I stayed, at first I convinced myself it was because he was a Rider, then later I convinced myself I couldn’t leave safely without risking drawing attention” Murtagh glanced away and when he looked back to his face a curious expression flitted across before he added. “And now I don’t know why I stayed.” He stared at his palms and then spoke again. “This makes no sense, here I sit son of one of the most hated people in the empire, with a tenuous association with the first rider in years and who will probably shape the next century, being asked a favor by the daughter of one of the most powerful leaders in the empire   and yet, I’m still hunted by the most powerful man in Alagaësia. It’s circles upon circles.” He gave a mirthless laugh.

Nasuada was silent and glanced away before speaking. “I was prepared to hate you. For who you are, for what your father did, for all that you represent, and yet…. You are dissimilar to Morzan and yet, I can’t forget you’re his son.”

Murtagh and his jaw tightened. “I’m not my father, and to compare me to him is a curse I have borne all my life unwillingly and without a choice.” He slashed a hand through the air. “I no more chose my father, than you chose yours and yet here we stand, you daughter of one of the most powerful people in all of Alagaësia and me a person who if the lowest peasant was to know my parentage they would gladly spit on me and many would do worse.”

“I understand it’s not fair, but Morzan’s actions aren’t something that can easily be forgotten, not even in the case of his son. Your father’s history, especially in the case of my mother is cruel and inhuman.” She broke off realizing she accidentally told a lot more than she wanted to. It was a few moments before she contained herself enough to continue. “Even though I never met Morzan, I was told by my father of what he had done and his words aren’t something I can ever forget.”

Murtagh felt a glimmer of understanding finally for Nasuada’s and Ajihad’s hostility and he longed to find out more. But the look on the woman’s face restrained him. He laughed humourlessly again. “I guess here we stand then apart from each other by the same thing and mirrors because of it. Our father’s and old history which neither of us had any part in.”

“A stalemate, then.”

“Yes.”

Nasuada looked up and caught Murtagh’s gaze, her next words were chosen carefully. “You know, when there’s a stalemate, typically the game is over.”

“There never was a game, between us Lady Nasuada, we’re merely the ones being played, unwilling pawns in a much larger game….”

Nasuada regarded Murtagh for a moment then asked. “So what is your move, will you do as proposed?”

“Will I keep my silence about being tortured?” Murtagh said wryly. “You have nothing to fear from me, I know my place, and how do you think I survived all these years in the empire. It was certainly not by allowing the truth to be known.”

Nasuada nodded and rose. As she neared the door Murtagh called out. “So, am I to be kept here, until I submit to having my mind examined because that will never happen.”

“I do not know for sure, possibly unless there is other means of verifying you and your story.” She hesitated and then added. “I will speak to my father on your behalf, I’ll be back tomorrow if there’s something to tell.”

 “And...” Murtagh seemed to hesitate and  then he continued roughly, a tinge of colour coming to his face. “ if not then will you still come back?”

Nasuada paused, her hand on the door knob as she glanced back at Murtagh. She was surprised by the request. His face was drawn with pain but his eyes stared back at her with startling intensity. Against her will the smallest hint of a smile tugged at her lips before fading.   “We shall see Murtagh.”


End file.
